


Ain't All It's Cracked Up To Be

by deadlydecember1214



Series: The Losers Of ‘89 Were Here [14]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, KING Stephen - Works
Genre: Ex-Girlfriends, F/M, M/M, OCs - Freeform, long distance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:37:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlydecember1214/pseuds/deadlydecember1214
Summary: Richie is almost 3,000 miles away from Eddie when he has a run in with an ex-girlfriend (Aged-Up to college)





	Ain't All It's Cracked Up To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Wow… this got long… Sorry??

**May 1997**

Richie threw one shirt after the other from his side of the closet into the suitcase sitting on the bed beside his boyfriend. As he did, Eddie plucked each one up, folding it neatly before replacing it in the suitcase. 

“Eight weeks,” Eddie sighed, picking up Richie’s favorite black hoodie with holes all along the cuffs of the sleeves, in the pockets and cigarette burns here and there. Fucking disaster. “We’ve never been apart that long before.”

Richie glanced over his shoulder, throwing a black Dark Side Of The Moon t-shirt at Eddie’s face, “Come on, Eds, don’t get all clingy on me now.”

“I’m not being clingy, asshole!” Eddie snapped, “Eight weeks is a long fucking time! And don’t call me that.”

“Eight weeks is not a long fucking time, Eddie,” Richie scoffed, turning around to give his boyfriend a look, “I’ll be back at the end of July and you’ll barely have had time to miss me.”

Eddie nibbled at his lip, folding the god awful hoodie up and throwing it in the suitcase with everything else. He looked up to Richie, who was smirking at him with his usual infuriatingly cute smirk. Glaring in response, he said, “You’ll be across the country for two months. We’ve hardly been apart longer than a couple of weeks since we were five, and especially not in the last five years, so fucking excuse me for thinking that I might just miss you. Apparently, you won’t miss me.”

Richie laughed, only to have a pair of jeans thrown at him, “Hey, hey, c’mon, Eds. I’m sorry, okay, but that was just fucking ridiculous.” Eddie continued to glare as Richie went on, “Of course I’ll miss you. I _am _clingy, Spaghetti Man, remember? I blame my mommy and daddy issues. Being away is gonna fucking blow but…” He shrugged, looking sincere for a moment, “I gotta go.”

Eddie finished folding the last t-shirt and nodded, “Yeah, I know. I’d be fucking furious with you if you didn’t go. It’s just,” He groaned, throwing his head back, “It’s LA, Richie.”

Richie glanced away, knowing exactly what Eddie was getting at. 

He and Eddie had been dating nearly five years… if you didn’t count a short—_very_ fucking short—break-up right before they finished high school three years prior. It was so short, it shouldn’t even fucking count but it had still happened. And it had happened because Richie had thought—_barely_ even contemplated—going to college at UCLA instead of following Eddie to NYU.

With a sigh, he shook his head, “It’s LA for a killer eight week internship; I’m not going to stay and finish up my B.A. there or anything, Eds.”

“That’s not funny, dickwad,” Eddie glowered as Richie carried on, unfazed.

“I’ll get actual air time, Eddie. On the actual radio, not just the shitty campus radio gig I got now where only ten people tune in and six of them are Losers.” Richie reasoned for the umpteenth time. He was starting to loose track of the times he and Eddie had had this exact conversation since he’d first applied for the damn thing.

“I know that, Richie,” Eddie said, standing up from the bed, “I want you to go. Still fucking sucks.”

Richie half smiled, “Totally blows ass.”

Eddie couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling into a smile. Laughing, he stepped forward, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck and kissing him with everything he could. Richie gripped Eddie’s hips with an equal desperation, holding him in place against him. 

Reaching up, Eddie tangled his fingers into the hair at the nape of Richie’s neck and purposefully tugged, knowing exactly how much it drove Richie crazy. Richie responded just how Eddie had wanted him to, gasping into their kiss. 

Pulling away, Richie breathlessly groaned, “No fucking fair.”

“Too damn bad,” Eddie challenged, looking into Richie’s darkened eyes with his own.

There was a moment that they just stared each other, each waiting and wondering what move the other was going to make and when. Then, as if they’d planned it, they crashed back together, Eddie hooking his arms around Richie neck and Richie lifted him and Eddie wrapped his legs around his waist. They pressed together, kissing despite already being lightheaded. 

Slowly, Richie moved them over to the bed, breaking apart only to carefully lay Eddie down, tossing his t-shirt off before climbing on top of him. Eddie laughed, reaching up to softly trail his fingertips over the familiar plains of his boyfriend’s chest. Slipping his hand up behind Richie’s neck, he pulled him down for another searing kiss before breaking apart again just to sit up and rid himself of his shirt as well, tossing it to the floor beside Richie’s.

Laying back down, the two tangled together. Richie’s hands moved down to Eddie’s leg, moving it to hook around his as he propped himself up on his elbow. Eddie reached between them, his hand tugging at the waist of Richie’s jeans. Breaking away, he gasped, “These need to go.”

Richie laughed, nodding. 

He stood, quickly undoing his fly and looking back at his boyfriend, laying before him, waiting and watching. He paused, taking in every detail of Eddie he could to commit it to memory, engrave it into his mind. His stomach twisted at the thought of leaving all this in just twelve hours. And then to be with out it for two months. 

Two months before he saw the freckles along Eddie’s collar bones or the way his hair got messed up from rolling around in bed, the warmth of his skin or the softness of his ear, his cool fingertips… His chest clenched.

Below him, Eddie propped himself up on his elbows, cocking his head, “Richie, what’s wrong?”

“Jesus, Eddie,” Richie shook his head, throat burning, “I’m gonna miss you, baby.”

Eddie’s heart raced faster, the way it always did when Richie called him _baby_, and he felt a lump from in his throat as he nodded, “Yeah,” He bit his lip hard, looking into Richie’s chocolate brown eyes for a long, long moment before whispering, softly, “Show me. Show me how much you’ll miss me.”

In an instant, Richie was back on top of him and they were kissing with a desperation they would never acknowledge or admit to later. Reaching out, they intertwined their hands over Eddie’s head, barely breaking to breathe.

* * *

Eleven and a half hours later, a group of seven stood in a huddle to themselves in JFK Airport. Beverly was hugging Richie for the third time while Ben and Eddie looked on, glumly. Mike, Bill and Stanley stood a little away, Bill and Stan’s hands linked between then as the three of them made small talk.

“American Airlines, flight 27 to LAX, now boarding.” A monotone voice over their heads dulled out.

Richie looked up at a nearby speaker over Bev’s head and quipped sarcastically, “Well, she sounds great.”

“Richie,” Eddie warned as Richie and Beverly parted. Richie grinned at his boyfriend and shrugged, looking around at the others who were watching him.

“Guess this is it,” Richie shrugged, drumming his hand on the thigh of his jeans nervously. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“It w-won’t be the same without you, Trashmouth,” Bill smiled lightly and clapped Richie on the shoulder before returning to his boyfriend’s side.

Stan glanced at Bill before looking back at Richie, nodding, “Yeah, it’ll be like a two month long vacation.”

Richie threw a hand over his heart, “Oh, Stanley! You wound me!” Stan rolled his eyes silently before Richie grinned and gestured for him, “Get over here, Stanley Urine.”

Stanley groaned but moved forward, hugging Richie quickly before quirking a smile andsaying, “I hate you.” 

Mike hugged Richie tight, patting him on the back a few times before dropping his arms. Before he could step away though, Richie gripped his arm and leaned forward, “Look out for Eds for me, okay? You’re his best friend, you know,” He shrugged, “Besides me, obviously.”

Mike laughed and nodded, “Of course, Rich.”

Ben reached out to squeeze the boy’s arm, saying sadly, “I think I’ll actually miss you too, Richie. But at least I’ll save on groceries with you not coming over to steal food.”

“Haystack! Never have I ever!” Richie faked offense before hugging Ben quickly, “Yeah, I guess I’ll miss you too.”

Beverly stepped forward, taking one of Richie’s hands in hers and staring into his eyes to make sure she kept his attention, “You’ll call me the second you finish your first day tomorrow, right? I mean, after you talk to Eddie?”

“Yes, Bevvy,” Richie answered dutifully.

“And if you find any really good weed, you’ll sneak me back some, right?”

“Yes, Bevvy,”

The red head nodded, reaching out with her free hand to smack Richie’s cheek once before stepping up and lightly kissing the other. “I’ll see you soon, friend.”

“I’ll see you soon, Red,” Richie nodded, dropping Beverly’s hand before looking over beside him only to find Eddie staring back at him.

Bill glanced between the two and cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets, “E-Eddie, we’ll be by the car when you’re ready.”

Eddie half nodded and neither he nor Richie paid attention as the Losers filed away. He stepped forward, resting his hands on Richie’s chest where a Sergeant Pepper’s logo was printed. Keeping his eyes on his hands, he whispered, lightly, “You’re going to be back.”

It wasn’t a question but Richie still answered, reaching up to lace his fingers with Eddie’s, nodding, “I swear to God.” Bring Eddie’s hands to his lips he kissed them gently, “I love you, Eds... You’re not getting rid of me for a long time.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth twitched and he tightened his grip momentarily, “Good...” He finally brought his eyes up to Richie’s, meeting his gaze as he slipped one hand free to rest of the other’s cheek, “I love you, too.”

Richie felt his heart skip a beat. Eddie didn’t say the L-O-V-E word willy nilly like Richie tended to. Richie knew Eddie’s feelings, had no doubts in them whatsoever but it still caught him a bit off guard when he heard Eddie speak them aloud. Grinning, he ducked his head down and kissed Eddie hard before pulling away.

“I gotta go,” He said softly and Eddie nodded. Picking up the suitcase beside him, Richie waited till the last second to let go of Eddie’s hand before turning and walking to his gate.

* * *

**June 1997**

After finishing his first week in LA, Richie knew he’d made the right choice. Los Angeles... it was incredible. People in LA didn’t look twice at him, didn’t give him looks or roll their eyes in distaste. People in LA actually socialized and talked and, best of all, partied. Every night after he got done with his small, hour long segment before the prime time host came on, Richie went out to a new bar or club with his fellow interns, Berkeley and Donny.  
****

They’d decided on a club with a Rolling Stones cover band playing for that night’s adventure, heading out together. 

Berkeley was—no surprise—born and raised in California, about to finish her last year at UCLA, which Richie had commented on multiple time. She was pretty enough and quite good for killing time with bantering and joking but she was no Beverly Marsh. Still, Richie liked her okay.

Donny was from Washington and had moved for college, attending Butler University somewhere in Indiana. The kid was so high most of the time, Richie found it hard to believe that he’d just graduated with honors and took the internship as resume filler. Still, occasionally, Donny was capable of surprising, like fixing a glitch in the queue system at the station in ten minutes flat. 

Walking down the sidewalk, Richie glanced over at Berkeley, “Hey, so this friend of yours, you sure he can pull this off? This show is supposedly sold out.”

“_She_, Richie,” Berkeley rolled her eyes, “And yes. If you knew her, you wouldn’t even ask.”

They reached the club, finding a line of people standing and waiting. Berkeley held her head up and confidently led the way for Richie and Donny to the front. The bouncer gave her a look. Berk flashed him a smile, “Berkeley Wells, Donny Stills, and Richie Tozier. We were invited by Sandy.”

Richie cocked his head to the side, something in the back of his mind trying to come forward... he didn’t know what.

The bouncer nodded, gesturing them forward. As they passed, he leaned down and whispered something to Berkeley, who smiled and nodded. Once they were in Richie was reminded again just how many people were in the world. The place was packed, music playing over the speakers but nothing live as the band hadn’t started up yet.

Berkeley grinned and turn around, yelling at the two of them, “Follow me!”

Richie looked at Donny but the only guy only shrugged and took off after Berkeley. With a sigh, Richie trailed behind, making sure not to lose sight of Berk’s platinum blonde hair in the crowd. She lead them to a door marked ‘Employees Only’ and pushed her way in. Following, Richie found it slightly quieter back stage.

“What are we doing, Berk?” Donny asked, not sounding so much concerned as curious.

“My friend invited us back stage,” She shrugged, “Might be cool to meet the band before they go on.”

Richie rolled his eyes, “You realize this isn’t actually Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, right? They’re a cover band, not all that exciting to meet.”

“You’re lucky none of them can hear you, Trashmouth, they’d demand I throw you out,” A voice said behind him, familiar and instantly identifiable. Suddenly, the little voice in the back of his head, that thought that had tried to present itself to him, became clear and he knew exactly who it was standing behind him.

Richie whirled around and stopped dead in his tracks, “Sandy?”

* * *

“Sandy? Sandy Montgomery?” Beverly exclaimed into the phone. “As in _Sexy Sandy_? Your ex-girlfriend?!”

Richie laughed, shaking his head, “God, I forgot that nickname.”

“Richie, this is not funny!” Bev snapped, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear, “What happened when you saw her?”  


“Nothing much,” Richie shrugged, stretching the phone cord as he laid back on his motel bed, “All the normal bullshit you say, I missed you, you look great, how are you. Yada yada.” 

“You did _not _tell her she looked great, Richard,” Beverly groaned, shaking her head.

Richie’s eyebrows drew together, “Actually I said ‘totally banging’ but—“

“Richie,” Beverly took a deep breath, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Ben was still in the kitchen and Mike down the hall in his room. Lowering her voice, she sighed, “You didn’t… You didn’t flirt with her, right? Because flirting with Sandy is not like flirting with me or Stan or Mike. You have to see that.”

He shifted on his bed, sitting up against the headboard, “My flirting isn’t real flirting unless it’s with Eddie.”

“Sandy won’t see it that way and if he finds out, neither will Eddie,” Beverly snapped, “Richie, he’s trusting you. Don’t fuck that up because you will never forgive yourself.”

“Bev, I’m not fucking anything up, okay? Jesus, ye of little faith,” Richie sighed, swallowing before saying carefully, “I know he’s trusting me. I’m not doing anything to compromise that. I swear, Beverly.”

“Then why did you call me? Why not Eddie?” Beverly asked, biting her lip.

Richie’s mouth fell open, eyebrows drawing together, “That’s not—“

Beverly sighed, “Richie, I love you and I always will but just… be careful, okay? And please, please, please call Eddie. Tell him you saw Sandy.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever, Bev,” Richie cocked his head to the side, “I love you too, by the way. Always will.”

“Bye, Trashmouth.”

“Talk to you later, Red.”

Hanging up, Richie rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at the phone. It had only been about four hours since he’d talked to Eddie but Beverly’s words gave him the itch to call again. Was it really that big a deal that he ran into Sandy? They’d dated five and a half years ago, Eddie couldn’t seriously be threatened by some girl from years back… right?

Shrugging, he picked up the phone again and dialed the number for his and Eddie’s apartment. It rang a few times before the machine picked it up.

_You’ve reached—Richie! Stop it, I’m doing something!— You’ve reach Eddie and—_

_ Richie!_

_ And Richie, leave a message and we will call you back._

_ Or we won’t. Don’t get your hopes up too high._

_ BEEP_

Smiling at the outgoing message they’d taken an hour to record when they’d first found their dinky little place in the Village, Richie sighed and said, “Hey, Eds, it’s me. I just— I don’t know, I guess I missed you. I _miss_ you. Just, uh, give me a call back when you get home, okay? I’m skipping out on the partying tonight so don’t worry, I’ll be here. So, yeah, call me. Love you.”

Dropping back on the bed, Richie let his eyes drift close.

* * *

Eddie rolled his shoulders, trying in vain to rid himself of some of the knots in his back. He’d been put on stock duty for his entire shift today and was expected back The Village Grocery at 6AM sharp the next morning. 

He’d had to start picking up extra time here and there when he could, having to pay two months rent and bills with only his pay. He knew Richie would send money to help if he knew but Eddie also knew Richie needed the internship money for his own living conditions in Los Angeles. They’d discussed it before Richie left and this was just how it had to play out.

Dropping his duffle that he kept his ID and uniform in off at the laundry, Eddie made his way to the kitchen to start a late dinner, as it was already 8:30. Getting some water boiling, Eddie noticed the red light blinking on the answering machine. He reached over and hit the ‘playback’ button.

“Hey, Eddie, it’s Stan. Bill and I were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner this weekend. Let us know either way, talk to you soon.”

Eddie glanced at the calendar hanging on the side of the fridge and sighed, seeing he was working from noon to midnight on both Saturday and Sunday.

The was another beep and then the next message began.

“Hey, Eds, it’s me.” Eddie stopped, his head whirling around to look at the machine, as if he would somehow find Richie standing there and not just his voice. “I just— I don’t know, I guess I missed you. I _miss_ you. Just, uh, give me a call back when you get home, okay? I’m skipping out on the partying tonight so don’t worry, I’ll be here. So, yeah, call me. Love you.”

Grinning to himself, Eddie looked at the clock and quickly calculated the time difference. Nodding to himself, he picked up the phone and dialed the number hastily written on a sticky note on the counter. The phone rang once, twice, and then there was a click as the call connected.

“Who’s this?” 

“That’s just about the rudest way to answer the phone,” Eddie teased, smiling in spite of himself.

“Eddie Spaghetti! My Love, you called me back.” Richie grinned as well nearly 3,000 miles away. 

He nodded even though he knew it was pretty pointless over the phone, “You asked me to, so yeah. I did.”

“Aww, you love me!”

“Shut up! Why did you call? I'm not complaining or anything but we just talked on my break,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“I just forgot to tell you something earlier and Beverly got all on my ass about it so I figured I’d just call you back. Get the added bonus of talking to you twice in one day.” Richie sighed, “How much longer?”

“Six weeks… That’s 42 days to be exact,” Eddie glanced over at the calendar again where each day had a small number in the bottom right side corner. The countdown… Shaking his head at himself, Eddie cleared his throat, “What’d you want to tell me?”

“Oh, right, that,” Richie sounded apprehensive and Eddie could almost see him in his mind’s eye, picking at his cuticles or drumming his fingers against his thigh. Richie was basically just a bundle of nervous ticks. “I just… I saw Sandy last week. At a club. Well, she kind of invited me to the club. Not _me_ me, really but yeah. I didn’t get the big fucking deal but Bev made it sound like I deserved a big ass red A on my chest or something.”

Eddie fell back to lean against the counter, crossing his free arm over his chest, “S—Sandy?” He heard how strangled he sounded and quickly cleared his throat, “Sandy Montgomery?”

“Yeah, she went to UCLA, remember? She’s two years older us? Well, she’s got this gig out here at a club, booking bands and stuff. It’s almost exactly what she used to always talk about doing. She knew one of the other interns I work with so she invited all of us and yeah…”

“I didn’t know she went to UCLA… Have— have you, uh, seen her since then?” Eddie asked, his heart pounding in his throat. Sandy was in LA with his boyfriend. Out of all the girls Richie had dated before him, why did it have to be Sandy? Sandy with her gorgeous, curly brown hair that fell down her back and always had that one stupid braid tucked behind her ear, everyday woven with a different color of stupid ribbon? Sandy, who’s stupid bright green eyes were like sky diving into a lash rainforest? That Sandy?

Richie laughed, “No, I mean, now that I’ve been trained on more around the station I don’t have as much time for the club scene so haven’t been back. But, c’mon, Eds, even if I saw her again, you know it wouldn’t even be a thing, right?”

“She was the only long term relationship you had.” Eddie argued before he could stop himself.

He heard a long pause before Richie said, slowly, “Before _you_. I was fucking sixteen when it ended, Eddie. It was for-fucking-ever ago.”

Eddie nodded and in the logical parts of himself, he knew all of that. He knew it’d been almost five and a half years since Richie dated Sandy but…

He dated her for seven whole months. Almost all of Sophomore year… She was the only other person Eddie knew of that Richie had been in love with. He vividly remembered the day Richie had shown up at Bill’s house for movie night in Sophomore year and exclaimed to all of them that he was completely obsessed, in love, devoted. It had been one of the worst days of his life.

Sighing in an annoyed tone, Eddie snapped back, “You know there is, like, 4 million people in all of LA and you manage to find the one girl who lives there that you’ve fucked. I’m almost impressed.” 

Richie groaned in Eddie ear, “Are you seriously going to be pissed at me about this?”

Eddie bit his lip, closing his eyes and counting down before shaking his head, “No, I’m not pissed! I— I trust you, it just sucks. All of it.”

Richie was quiet for a second and Eddie wished he could see him, could watch him and observe him. Richie spoke half the time in body language alone and there was only so much Eddie could picture in his head. Finally, he spoke, “Fucking sucks, for sure. I wouldn’t— I would never— You have to know— You know?”

Eddie’s heart clenched at the worried, fearful tone Richie’s voice had taken on. Even almost 3,000 miles apart, he knew exactly what his boyfriend was struggling to say. 

_I wouldn’t do that to you. I would never betray your trust. You have to know that I love you too much for that._

He nodded and said, “I know.”

“Good,” Richie sounded instantly relieved, “I’ll let you go but I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Eddie smiled.

“Eds?"

“Hmm?”

“I love you, nothing’s gonna change that.”

“I know. Me too.”

* * *

**July 1997**

Richie laughed and shook his head, reaching over to turn up the music on the stereo beside him to block out the noises coming from down the hall of Berkeley’s apartment where she and Donny had just disappeared.

A laugh rang out, as Sandy shook her head on the couch across the living room, “Berk’s a real class act, huh?”

“Donny said weed makes him horny but I didn’t believe him since he’s high, like, ninety percent of the time,” Richie shook his head, leaning against the wall. “God, they’ve probably fucked at work!”

“They’ve totally fucked at work,” Sandy nodded, laughing again at his expression, “And I’m not just saying that, Berkeley’s told me.”

Richie sighed, looking away. He had not planned to be spending one-on-one time with Sandy Montgomery that night. He’d thought he’d just be getting high over at Berk’s place with her and Donny after work. He hadn’t known Berk had invited Sandy or that Sandy had agreed. He couldn’t be blamed for just trying to be civil, talking to her. Eddie couldn’t get pissed about this, right?

Sandy turned to fully face him, quirking an eyebrow, “I don’t bite, Trashmouth.”

Before he could stop himself, Richie quipped, “From what I remember, that’s a lie.” He immediately cringed at himself. He just couldn’t fucking shut himself off, could he?

Sandy smirked, looking away and shaking her head at him, “What I mean is you can sit down, I won’t jump your bones,” Her eyes flickered back to him, shrugging, “Unless you want me to.”

Richie swallowed and shook his head, “San, I abso-fucking-lutely can not do that.”

“San? God! No one’s called me that in years!” She laughed, shaking her head, “But you always had to come up with your little nicknames, didn’t you, Rich?”

“It’s a gift and a curse,” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets, “What have you been up to?” He changed the subject, remaining right where he was leaning against the wall.

Noting this, Sandy rolled her eyes, “Honestly, I’ve just been going to school and then working since we last saw each other. And doing this,” She gestured around to the loud stereo and unrolled weed on the coffee table, “Having fun.”

Richie nodded, “I’d fucking hope so. Because I can’t picture a version of Sandra Montgomery that doesn’t know how to have some fun.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sandy challenged.

He shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They fell silent and Richie almost wished that Donny and Berkeley were still going at it loud and proud just to give him something to laugh about. There was just an awkwardness instead. The awkwardness that probably always fell between two people who had once regularly seen each other naked and now hadn’t in years. 

“Richie?” Sandy asked, standing up.

He looked at her, “Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you follow me to LA? Where were you three years ago?” She said, crossing her arms over her chest, “We said that was the plan, didn’t we? LA, once you graduated and we’d make it work, together. So, where were you?”

Richie stared at her before looking at his feet. He had said all that, hadn’t he? He’d almost forgotten, he’d never told anyone about that, not even Beverly or Eddie or Stan. But those were the promises of a boy, not who he was now. 

He looked back up at her, “I was in New York. All us Losers go to school there. I’m at NYU.”

“Richie, I waited,” She exclaimed, frustration clear in her voice, “I waited two years for you to call or write or show up and you didn’t.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” He argued, shaking his head, “I didn’t wait. I moved on.”

“Moved on?” She echoed, stepping forward, “But we both said—“

“I was sixteen, Sandy! Things have fucking changed since then and maybe I should have wrote or called but it wouldn’t have made any damn difference! We were over when you left,” Richie argued, standing up straight.

Sandy looked away, lips pursed, “You were supposed to follow me.”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t fucking want to anymore,” Richie shrugged, “Sorry for saying that, but it’s the truth. I applied to UCLA, I got in and I didn’t fucking want to go.”

“Why not?” Sandy yelled, “Forget about me, what about getting as fucking far away from Derry as possible? New York is like a three hour fucking drive from Derry! Why there?”

“Because of Eddie!” Richie yelled back before sighed and shaking his head, “Because Eddie was going to New York.”

“Eddie?” Sandy said, quieter, looking taken aback before nodding, “Eddie, of course.” She licked her lips and looked back at him, “So you finally figured that out, did you?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Richie gave her a look.

“He was crushed out on you even back when I was around. I thought you knew that,” Sandy cocked her head, “I used to think you’d spend time with him just to piss me off. Make me jealous.”

“What? No!” Richie looked confused, “He was my best friend, he still is, that’s why I spent time with him.”

Sandy hummed, “But I was still right back then, wasn’t I? He was more than just your best friend wasn’t he?”

“Not while we were dating, no,” Richie shook his head, “Why does everyone think I’m a fucking cheat?”

She laughed, lightly, “I don’t think you cheated on me. At least not on purpose. But you had feelings for Eddie when we were together, didn’t you?”

He looked at her, shrugging, “I’ve basically always had feelings for Eddie.”

“See?” Sandy gestured to him, “So, you could never give me everything.”

Richie took a moment to think that over before nodding. She was right, he supposed. When they’d dated, he’d tried so fucking hard to make her the center of his world. And he’d nearly succeeded. He’d been pretty convinced that he was really in love with her, that she was the only way for him to get over that annoying pull he’d felt to Eddie Kaspbrak since he was 13. That pull that he thought there was no way Eddie felt as well. 

And when they’d ended, he had hurt, it had sucked but he had survived it. He’d gotten over it, moved on from it only to find that Eddie was still right there, in his chest and in his brain, infecting his thoughts and feelings, impossible to get over, never to be moved on from.

“We’re were good together,” Sandy spoke up and Richie turned to look at her, raising his eyebrows. She sighed and shook her head, pointing at him, “At least we never fought.” 

“Yeah,” Richie shrugged, “It was fucking boring as hell.”

She rolled her eyes before she smiled at him weakly and kindly, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

Feeling a sudden, engulfing need to hear his boyfriend’s voice, Richie nodded, “Thanks. I should go. Good luck, San.”

* * *

_Riiiiing! Riiiiiing! Riiiiiiing!_

Eddie gasped, eyes flying open as he jerked awake. Looking over at the phone on Richie’s bedside table, he saw the clock next to it read 4:27am. Groaning, he crawled over to Richie’s side and slowly raised the receiver to his ear, blearily slurring, “Hello?”

“Hey, baby,” A soft voice answered and his heart skipped a beat as he suddenly snapped awake. 

“Richie? Why are you calling me at 4 in the morning?” He asked, annoyed despite the thrill in the pit of his stomach. He waited for Richie to say his usual dumb shit like _phone sex_ or… Nope, late night calls were usually just about phone sex.

“Shit, sorry, I forgot the time difference, I just…Wanted to hear your voice. Talk to you.” He sounded weird and Eddie sat up against the headboard, trying to wake himself up more.

Eddie worried at his lip, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Richie sighed, “I just really fucking wish I was home. Los Angeles is probably really fucking awesome but I’m getting to the point were I can’t even see the appeal, I just want to be with you. I always want to be with you.”

Shaking his head, Eddie half laughed, “Are you high?”

There was a beat of silence, “A touch, yes, but I still mean it. We’re right for each other. You’re fucking it for me, Eds. There’s never gonna be anyone else. Ever.”

“Richie, go to bed,” Eddie sighed, lightly smiling to himself.

“You’re thinkin’ the same way, right? That we’re it for each other? That this is it?” Richie asked, sounding very unlike himself. He needed this though, Eddie could tell, this reassurance and confirmation.

Eddie nodded, gripping the phone very tightly, “Of course, Trashmouth. This, you and me, we’re it.”

He listened as Richie took a deep breath, echoing, “We’re it.”

“Now, go to sleep, Rich."

“Will do. I love the shit out of you.”

“Me too, Charmer. Take care of yourself and call me at a reasonable time tomorrow… later today, I guess.”

“As you wish, Eddie, my love.”

* * *

“7 days,” Richie answered his phone.

He heard Eddie sighed, “I almost wish I hadn’t actually been the one calling, just to hear you sounding like a fucking idiot to someone who has no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Eds, you’re like the third person to call that I’ve answered that way,” Richie said, “It’s been an awkward day.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head, “What’s going on there?”

“Same old, same old,” Richie shrugged, twirling a pen between his fingers, “I’m working on my mock-up for my last show on Friday.”

“I wish I could hear it, so do the others,” Eddie commented, twirling his fingers around the cord of the phone. 

Richie laughed, “I’m glad you can’t, you’d be fucking _pissed_ about some of the shit I’ve said about you on air.”

“Richie!”

“Kidding!”

There was a little, comfortable silence as Richie grinned, nearly seeing Eddie standing in their kitchen, rolling his eyes. After a second of just listening to his boyfriend’s soft breathing, Richie spoke up again, “They told me that if I moved back after graduation, I’d have a job.”

“Oh,” Eddie took a deep breath, “That’s— That’s—“

“I told them I got other plans but thanks,” Richie said, hearing Eddie’s choked voice.

Eddie groaned, “Richie, maybe you shouldn’t have—“

“Eds, LA isn’t where you want to be so it ain’t where I belong. I’ll go where ever you fucking want to go after graduation, New York, even Derry, if you want. I know you miss her, Eddie, even if you won’t admit it.”

Eddie felt his eyes burn and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to, he hated himself for it sometimes, but Richie was right… He missed his mother. They hadn’t spoken in two, going on three years. Since he’d gone home for Christmas break Freshman year and told her he was gay. That he was dating Richie Tozier. 

She’d kicked him out. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have told her on Christmas Eve. He’d driven the long drive back to New York, crying most of the time and ended up cuddling with Richie on the couch in the apartment Ben, Bev and Mike still shared since the dorms were closed for the holidays. He shouldn’t miss someone who did that to him… But he couldn’t help it. She was still his mother.

His nonresponse was all the answer Richie needed, though.

Richie nodded to himself, “Yeah, I thought so. My point is, I’ll be there, where ever you need me. No more bullshit like this two month apart shit-fest. My dick can’t take it, it’ll fall off or something.”

Eddie groaned, cover his face with his hand, “Dammit, Richard! Just when I think you’re being sweet, you make it about your dick again.”

* * *

Richie stepped out of the passenger boarding bridge, looking around for a familiar face in the crowd as he walked forward.

“Richie!”

“Rich!”

“Richie!”

“Trashmouth!”

A chorus of voices called out for him from a few yards away and he turned to see all the Losers being lead by Eddie. He started towards his boyfriend, walking fast before they both broke into a run at the same time. Slamming together, Richie gripped Eddie so close it might have bruised but Eddie didn’t care, throwing his arms around Richie’s neck and holding him just as tight. Their lips crashed together almost painfully, but after two months without so much as a brush of lips, they didn’t dare let up.

After several moments, they were forced to come up for air, both loosening their grips but neither dropping their arms. Eddie ran his hands over Richie’s neck, brushing the hair at the nape of his neck, trailing down his shoulder and chest, eyeing him with dark eyes. 

Glancing behind him to see the Losers standing back with exasperated looks, he got up of tip toe, pulling Richie close and whispering in his ear, “Just wait till I get you alone.”

Richie threw back his head with a groan of frustration before Eddie slipped out of his arms to allow the others their hugs. Beverly bounded up and Richie met her, lifting her right off her feet and spinning her around before setting her back on the ground.

“I missed you, Red.”

“Yeah, you too, Asshat.”

Mike hugged him next, squeezing his arm, “Good to have you back, Rich.”

Stanley hugged him and was quickly followed up by Bill, both giving him full grins.

Last, Ben clapped him on the back, “Fancy LA DJ now, huh?”  


“Eh,” Richie shrugged, eyes flickering over to meet Eddie’s, “LA ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Eddie’s face split into a smile and he bit his lip, not daring to drop Richie’s gaze. 


End file.
